Lessons
by gentlewinnix
Summary: INCOMPLETE FIC! Edward is admitted into a psychiatric rehab hospital after a deadly accident. There he meets Roy Mustang, the most dangerous patient under their care - and he's roommates with the man. Gen.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **Additional tags for this story include: AU - Mental Institution, Minor Character Death.

* * *

Edward sat in the hard plastic chair, sullen and withdrawn. He heard Winry and Pinako speaking to the desk clerk - brief snippets of his name here and there, among the static - and sighed. Alphonse's voice drifted into his ears, quietly soothing. Ed couldn't see his body, but he refused to believe his brother was dead; _gone_, like everyone told him.

It just wasn't possible. Al had survived so much with him. As brothers, they endured the sorrow of losing their mother to a terminal illness, the anger and betrayal as their father never once showed his face again, having left only two years before.

At eighteen years old - an adult, legally, finally - Alphonse Elric could not have lost his life to a silly car accident.

"You're not dead," Edward whispered.

"No," Al's voice said. "Of course not, Brother."

Edward slumped against the back of the seat. Idly, he raised his right hand into sight. The prosthetic limb reflected the harsh white lights in a sliver of brightness on its rubber surface. If he concentrated hard enough, he could feel the titanium implants inside his skeleton, the electrodes connected to his nerves and muscles.

"I just lost my arm and leg. Not you. Never you," Ed reassured himself.

"That's right. I'll never leave you, Ed."

Edward was torn from his reverie when the hospital doors flew open. Startled into observation, he looked over the three figures entering the room.

There were two, huge men - prison security guards - wrestling with a shorter, lean man in an orange jumpsuit and heavy restraints. He spat curses at the men with wild eyes, his unruly black hair empathising the sickly pallor of his skin. Ed noticed the large purple bruises on his cheeks and jaw, standing out against the paper-white flesh.

"Let me go, you fucking bastards!" The man all but screamed, his chest heaving as he struggled.

"Not on your life, Mustang," one of the guards chuckled, not phased by the resistance at all. He was blond, with a thick goatee and shocking green eyes.

"Yeah, don't need you beating the shit out of everyone in the waiting room on your first day, you damn animal," the other guard hissed, grabbing Mustang's restraints when he'd managed to slip away for a brief moment and jerking him back.

Growling, Mustang rammed his head back against the guards, landing a blow square in the abdomen of the blond guard and knocking the breath out of him. However, his grip on Mustang's restraints didn't slip, and the smaller man's efforts had been wasted.

After he caught his breath, the guard punched him in the jaw, throwing him off balance and silencing him.

"Don't fuck around, you little shit. You're not going anywhere."

With that, the two guards dragged Mustang off into the hallway of the hospital. Edward blinked, shocked at what he'd just witnessed. He heard the desk clerk speaking to Winry once more.

"T-that's not how most of the patients here are," she reassured. "He's...a special case, really. Those guards are from the prison, too. The guards here are much less brutal - Mustang there, he's being transferred here because they couldn't handle him."

"Those men were rude," Alphonse's voice commented, sour. "What a horrible way to treat someone."

"Yeah, they're assholes," Edward agreed. "And complete idiots, apparently."

He silenced when Winry and Pinako walked up to him, a doctor trailing close behind. He was short, his greying black hair a contrast to his white coat.

"This is Doctor Marcoh," Winry said, smiling gently. Edward glanced at the man, suspicious.

"I'll be taking your checkup. Doctor Armstrong will show you around and get you situated," the man said. He held out a hand. "Nice to meet you, Edward."

Ed took his hand, shaking it with little enthusiasm. "You too, Doc," he said. Edward stood, glaring at Winry and Pinako before he was ushered into the examination room, suitcase in hand.

* * *

After a basic checkup with Dr. Marcoh, Edward found himself escorted outside of the room by a Doctor Armstrong, a huge, bald, muscular man with a blond moustache who seemed to shoot off pink sparkles every time he chuckled or grinned.

"You must be Edward Elric," Armstrong greeted in his deep, booming voice. "It is a pleasure to meet our youngest patient!" He took Edward's hand, shaking it vigorously.

"Uh...yeah, that's m-me," Ed squeaked, terrified.

"I am Alex Louis Armstrong! I am the group therapist here - the specialty of psychology has been passed down the Armstrong family for generations, don't you know - and I shall give you a tour of the hospital," he shouted enthusiastically, grabbing Edward by the hood of his sweater and dragging him down the hallway.

"Alright, I'm coming," Ed groused, attempting to get back onto his feet.

The two entered a small corridor with rooms on both sides. Curious, Edward inspected the sign along the door closest to him, reading the name tags. _Vato Falman_, the top one read, followed by _Scar_.

"These are the dorms," Armstrong explained. "You'll be on your own until Mustang is let out of isolation, since all of the other rooms are filled."

Edward looked up at the man, his face pale. "Mustang? You mean the guy they just brought in?"

"Yes," Armstrong said. "If there are any issues, of course, you'll be split up and roomed with another patient, but for the time being it's simpler if the two of you are put together in the same room."

"That doesn't sound good," Alphonse whispered. "Mustang didn't look too friendly."

"Yeah, he didn't," Ed replied, frowning.

"What was that?" Armstrong asked, looking down at Edward.

"Oh, I saw them bringing him in, and he didn't look very friendly," Edward explained.

Armstrong paused in their trek down the hallway, looking contemplative. "Well, I'm not allowed to tell you much, due to doctor-patient confidentiality, but his imprisonment isn't really kept under wraps to begin with," he mused. "I heard he was arrested for burning a man alive."

Edward shuddered, his eyes wide. "No way," he whispered. "And he's...staying here?"

"Oh no," Alphonse squeaked. "It was nice knowing you, brother."

"Yes, indeed. It isn't likely he will attack you, though, so I wouldn't worry. Just don't provoke him. I can't say much more than that."

"I certainly won't try to," Edward said, terrified.

"Well, without further distraction, I believe I have a tour to give you. Come along, Elric!"

With that being said, the burly man led Edward through the dorms, pausing to show him where his room (and eventually Mustang's) was, where the teen dropped off his suitcase. They then ventured into an area Armstrong called the commons. Edward found it a rather welcoming sight, after the gray walls and brown floors of the dorm hallway.

The room was a rotunda, built in a circular shape, with a skylight roof letting its occupants see the sunlight filter through the clouds. Its walls were painted in a mural, which depicted rolling hills and meadows on a summer afternoon.

"That looks like the view at home, in Resembool," Ed said softly, smiling. He continued to observe the room, taking in the tables spread throughout and the bookshelves lining the walls by the dorm doors. On a small table next to the bookshelf, there were several boxes of board games and cards, and in one area of the room a small electric piano sat empty, sheet music spread open on the attached shelf.

"We don't have any patients who can play," Armstrong said quietly. "But Doctor Knox suggested it. He said we're likely to have someone who can play at some point."

"It's a very comfy room," Ed replied, smiling. "I like it."

"Yes, it's meant to be. Most of the patients spend their free time in here. In fact, the mural was painted by some of our older patients. They are no longer here, but the painting remains."

"Awesome," Ed chuckled. "Nice to see it's not just white walls, straitjackets, and group therapy here."

"Yes, well, the cliche is far from reality," Armstrong said. "Come along now, we still have much ground to cover."

Edward followed the man into another short hallway, which led to a decent-sized cafeteria. The windows were large and clear, placed near the roof and far out of reach. They served their purpose well, allowing the room to be lit without much in the way of ceiling lights, and Ed found himself relaxing.

"Good to see we're not all rotting under fluorescent lights here," he commented. "Anyways, where is everybody? There's like, eight other people here, right?"

"We're coming up to that, actually. Half of the patients have their personal therapy before and after lunch, and group therapy is always after dinner. Since it's a nice day out today, they are allowed to spend their leisure time in the courts outside while they wait."

Armstrong led Edward to a set of double doors and pushed them open, allowing Ed to step outside first. He was greeted with the sight of a basketball court and a small, grassy field, where a picnic table sat underneath a tree. Five people were playing basketball while two more sat at the table, watching them. Another man was seated in a wheelchair, parked beneath the tree and also watching the game, albiet morosely.

A tall fence bordered the entire area, but it didn't appear to be reinforced with electrical wiring or barbed wire.

"The perimeter is not secured with anything dangerous because it is not necessary," Armstrong explained, having seen the question on Ed's face. "My sister and her right hand man, Miles, is all of the security we'd need here."

It was then that Edward saw the tan-skinned albino man standing guard in the far corner of the court. Looking around, however, Ed did not spot a woman, and turned to Armstrong inquisitively.

"She does not come outside very often," he said, then pointed up at the building behind them. Looking past the first floor, Ed saw the window being addressed. He froze as he saw the woman standing there - tall, blonde, and beyond intimidating. Her cold blue eyes swept over the courtyard before she saw Edward and Armstrong, who waved in greeting. She turned her nose up disdainfully and stalked back out of sight.

"Jeez, she's scary," Ed whispered, as if she'd hear him.

"Yes, well, Olivier does not take to kindly to newcomers. Nor myself."

"I don't want to know," Alphonse said quietly. "I really, really don't want to know."

"How about we finish up this tour?" Edward asked. "I'd like to get to know everyone here afterwards, before lunch comes around, if that's okay."

"Of course! There are only three more rooms to show you, anyways," Armstrong all but cheered. He led Edward back through the cafeteria and into another room alongside it.

"This is the gym. When the weather's bad, this room is available for use. Of course, it goes without saying that an orderly or guard must be present anywhere you may go," he added. Edward glanced around the room briefly - it wasn't much more than a high school gym - and nodded.

"Right," he agreed.

Armstrong guided Edward into an adjoining room, where a shallow pool and hot tub were placed. Ed gasped, excited for the first time since arriving.

"Seriously? A hot tub?"

"Indeed. However, use of this room is a privilege which must be earned, and express written permission may only be given by both Doctor Knox and my sister. As you can imagine, the security is tight around here especially, given the nature of this hospital. The potential risk of a suicide attempt is quite high."

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense," Ed agreed, frowning slightly.

"None of the patients here are restricted from pool usage at the moment," Armstrong commented cheerfully. "In addition, none of them have needed to make use of the solitary rooms or other forms of restraint, with the exception of Mustang. But, as you're already aware, he's quite different from the others here."

"That's reassuring, actually," Ed breathed, relaxing. "I was expecting everyone here to be like him after I first saw him."

Armstrong chuckled. "Well, you won't have to worry about that. This is a very laid-back hospital. Everyone is quite relaxed - except maybe Scar, but it's not difficult to stay on his good side."

"Oh, yeah, I saw his name on one of the dormitory doors," Ed recalled. "I was going to ask why he's named that."

"Scar did not come here with a given name. He claims to have left it behind, and allows us to call him whatever we wish. Obviously, his birth name is known by all of the staff, but we respect his wishes and unanimously agreed to call him Scar, for the x-shaped scar on his forehead."

"Hm. Interesting," Ed said.

"That's really nice of them," Alphonse said, and Ed could hear the smile in his voice. He only wished he could see his brother…

"There is one more room for us to see," Armstrong boomed, and lead Edward back to the commons. He opened a third door, which Ed had not noticed before, and let him in. The room wasn't very big - the size of a classroom, really - and only contained a computer desk, projector and several beanbag chairs strewn across the floor.

"Here is where everyone meets for group therapy," Armstrong announced. "The staff agreed to provide bean bag chairs rather than folding chairs in order to create a more comfortable situation for our patients, and the projector is often used for showing informational videos and powerpoints on whatever topic is being discussed."

"I think I might actually like this place a little bit," Ed chuckled, checking out the room in interest.

"In addition, if all of the patients have cooperated and made decent progress through all of the week's group therapy sessions, the projector is used for movie nights. It is a privilege allowed by an exceptional display of teamwork and communication from all of the patients, so the staff allows some extravagance such as movie popcorn and staying up past lights-out - on movie nights only, of course." Armstrong smiled at Edward, sparkling happily.

"Wow, I definitely like that! It's not so bad here," the teen laughed, no longer feeling as though he were about to suffer some sort of prison stay - and oh, how ironic that was, given his future room mate.

"Yes, the staff has been very lenient and giving to the patients here. However, I do not recommend any poor behavior in group therapy. When movie night is not permitted, the others tend to get accusatory and very hostile."

"That's understandable," Ed said. "It's like that in school too."

"Indeed it is," Armstrong said. "Well, that wraps up our tour. Lunch will be starting in just a few minutes, so you can head down there now and wait a little while. Please make yourself comfortable," he finished, smiling and holding the door for Ed.

"Thanks for everything, Doc," the teen grinned, making his way back to the cafeteria.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Additional plot points outlined for this chapter include: _ed meets everyone else at lunch & free time afterwards - his personal therapy starts the day after so he only goes to group therapy that evening_


	2. Chapter 2

Maria Ross stood with her back straight, following Doctor Knox to the room where Mustang had spent the night in.

"Stay out here," Knox said, unlocking the door. "I can't guarantee he'll trust you." Maria nodded, stepping back as the doctor entered the room and closed the door behind him.

She could see through the window at the top and watched discreetly as Knox stepped towards Mustang, who was sitting cross-legged in his straitjacket and facing the wall.

"You've always been a handful, Roy," Knox said. "But this is unbelievable." Mustang's head jerked to the side, his wide onyx eyes locking on the doctor's form. Maria gasped slightly at the sight of him - pale skin, eyes darkly shadowed and red-rimmed from lack of sleep, his restrained body shaking violently.

At first she mistook his expression for anger, but she realized he was afraid when he began to speak.

"Let me out of here," he insisted, voice thready and terrified.

Knox sighed, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to leave the room and its single occupant. At the doctor's silence, Mustang grew desperate, wriggling to turn and face the older man.

"I need to get out!" His voice cracked painfully as he shouted, hoarse from dehydration. "Please!"

Knox squatted down before the man, his expression grave. "Calm down, Roy. We're not going to leave you in here, but we can't let you out just yet." Mustang seemed to relax slightly, but his lean frame was still wracked with shudders of terror.

"Why not?" He asked, sounding like a child.

"There are some...rules you'll have to follow, while you're here," Knox said carefully. "You need to be aware of these, so we're going to go over them while you eat. Is that alright with you?"

* * *

**Author's Note: **Additional plot points outlined for this story include:

_discuss rules over breakfast, knox gives roy some clothes and mentions that he contacted chris to bring in some of his belongings - seeing as he had been in prison before and therefore came with nothing but a prison jumpsuit, ross is assigned as roy's personal escort and shows him around, ect. he meets edward and everyone else at lunch rather than during the free time before then, like in ed's case_

And that's all I have. Sorry, folks. This is very old.


End file.
